Revelations
by Graveygraves
Summary: Spencer Reid has survived the ordeal but what happens next? One thing is for sure Derek Morgan isn't going to be far away from his friend. Written as a tag to the events of Revelations. Beta'd.
1. Hospital

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**I have always wanted to write something for this episode but have never managed to get a start on it. Sometime ago I got this started. Originally it was going to be a one-shot but Morgan wasn't going to let it be.  
**

**The original idea was to just to do the hospital scene. So this short story is based between 'Revelations' and 'Fear and Loathing'. It won't be the full journey to recovery (I can recommend 'Silent Cries' by Nebula2 if that is what you are looking for – a personal favourite of mine)**

**So here is my latest short story . . . I hope you like it.**

**. . .**

**Prompt**

**Gideon:** (to Reid over webcam) "Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. Do you understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him; he cannot break you."

. . .

Spence woke with a start. His mind was confused; images blurred and didn't make sense. As his eyes shot wide open he scanned the room, frantically looking for something that could help him make sense of it all. Then he found it.

A dark shape stirred beside him, the head that had been resting on folded arms on the edge of the bed lifted. Concerned eyes focused and a deep voice questioned, "You alright, kid?"

Spence nodded, not certain enough of his voice to try and answer.

Derek Morgan sat upright and stretched, not taking his eyes of Spence the whole time. "You sure? You look kinda shaky; want me to get a doctor? Are you cold? I can fetch and extra blanket. "

"No I'm fine . . . I just wasn't sure where I was when I woke." Spence looked down at his hands that were trembling. His mind had started to make sense of his surroundings. For someone capable of memorising the slightest of details, right now his thoughts were clouded. He could remember so much that he didn't want to recall, his time with Hankel and digging his own grave. However after that seemed a blur.

Hotch, he remembered Hotch. He had understood; he'd followed the clue. He saved him. It felt so good to hold him – was it wrong to say that of his boss. But to physically have hold of something, someone, that meant this was all over, that he was safe was beyond his wildest dreams. In fact it was only having hold of Hotch that allowed him to know it wasn't a dream and that he was really free. That feeling he remembered clearly.

Then there was JJ, the look on her face, which would haunt him forever. She had looked so gaunt and afraid. Even in the faint hint of the moonlight he could tell how pale she was. Every moment of worry was etched on her beautiful face. Holding her tight he remembered trying to reassure her. She was not to blame. This had not been her fault. He needed her to believe him.

Spence startled once more, the gentle touch of a hand on his arm. "Sorry, Kid," Derek apologised for scaring him. "You zoned out on me. I have to admit I'm concerned. You're sweating and pale. I think I should get the doctor in to check you out."

Spence scanned the blank hospital room, his mind weighing up the options. If Derek called the doctor he may just get a shot of relief from the pain, but they might also figure out what was going on. That scared him more than anything.

He didn't know if they had seen Hankel give him the drugs, he had no idea how much they knew. All he knew right now was that his symptoms fit the perfect description of a withdrawal. He needed something to stop this. Right now he wasn't strong enough to cope with the waves of pain cramping through his stomach. The feeling of nausea washing over him, as he tried to remain in control, let him know he was not ready to deal with this now.

But could he deal with them knowing?

"I just need the bathroom, that's all," Spence said weakly, moving the covers back of his bed.

"Whoa, there," Derek was up on his feet before Spence could make another move.

"I'm okay." Spence faltered as he tried to push up of the bed, then suddenly flopping back from the exertion of the simple movement.

"You are far from ok, Kid," Derek spoke as he did his best to tuck him back into bed. "Here's the deal: You stay put and I go find a doctor, and if you are lucky, one of the very nice nurses that seem keen to hang around you."

Spence snorted, swallowing the acidic taste of bile rising in his throat, "Somehow I doubt that is anything to do with me being in the room that makes the nurses want to be here."

Derek smiled, "Don't know what you mean kid. Now can I trust you to sit still?"

Spencer nodded weakly. He watched as Derek backed himself out of the room, waiting for his colleague to leave before he fully began to process his surroundings. He was a in a room on his own, he hated to think what that cost, his arm had a tube attached linked to a bag he knew had to had the purpose of rehydrating him. His head was foggy as he focused on the shadows that encircled his bed. Suddenly he needed a light on. Panicking, he reached toward a switch hoping it would give him the relief he needed. Fumbling, relief flooded as the shadows receded.

Spence focused on his breathing, trying to normalise it before Derek returned. Closing his eyes, he desperately wanted to slow each breath he took, but he seemed unable. He was unable to make his erratic inhalations settle. His head was swimming, the room spinning, he felt sick. . .

. . .

"Hey, Kid . . . come on, man . . . open those eyes; I know you can do this."

Spence tried to focus on the words. He tried hard to do what Derek was asking. He willed his eyes to open once more, but now he needed to sleep. He needed to rest to leave it all behind. It was easier this way. Just to keep his eyes shut and drift away.

. . .

Derek paced, he couldn't sit a wait any longer. His nostrils flared as he contained his anger. He hated seeing Spence like this. He prayed for Spencer to wake, he just wanted to know he was ok.

Sure the doctors had done their best to reassure him that Spencer needed plenty of rest right now and that it was perfectly acceptable for him to sleep. Stopping at the end of the bed, he watched as his colleague and friend rested.

"I'm not leaving, kid. Whatever you're going through, I'm going through it with you."


	2. Going Home

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Just to clarify this is not slash. Personally I have read some great slash with this pair but I prefer to write friendship for them. **

**Thank you for the support so far - hope you enjoy the rest of this story.**

**. . .**

Derek kept glancing sideways, watching Spence who was sat up on the side of the bed. Derek continued to fold and pack each item of Spencer's clothes in silence as he his friend sat in silence beside him. In Spencer's hand was a bottle of pills, all of his attention was on the prescription. Derek wondered what was bothering him, what thoughts were racing through his head right now.

Folding the last shirt, Derek rested his hand on the top of the stereotypical plain black holdall. His eyes narrowed as he studied Spencer once more. Derek had seen stronger men go through a lot less and not make it out the other side. It was a lot to expect of the kid. He was young and vulnerable before he went in. Now he was weak and insecure. This would change him for life, no doubt about it.

Derek could only see one possible ray of light at the end of the tunnel and it was dependent on Spencer letting others help him along the track. Right now, Derek didn't see that happening.

"Hey, kid, think I'm done, unless you are hiding something you don't want me to know about!"

Spencer turned, wide eyed, staring at his colleague. "Wh . . . what you mean by that?" he stuttered.

"Whoa nothing, other than have I missed something? I think I have all your clothes, wash bag…there are a couple of hefty books in here with titles that don't even begin to make sense to me, so I know they are yours and not editions from the hospital library. Now, anything else I should be looking for you?"

"Where are my clothes from the other night?"

Derek patted the far end of the bag. "Managed to persuade one of the nurses into letting me have a trash bag to throw all your dirty stuff in - though it stunk - I did consider just chucking it and taking you on a shopping trip when we got home."

"No!" Spence said with a look of panic on his face.

Derek held his hands up. "Glad I didn't pick that option then." Pulling the zip closed on the holdall Derek lifted it over his shoulder in one easy sweep. "Hey, Spence, you do know that you are not expected to bounce back from this by tomorrow. I know it's cliché, but time is a great healer and all that. I'm here to help you."

Spence slid off the edge of the bed, standing slowly on weak legs. Studying the floor he nodded slightly.

Derek brow furrowed, he was right, Spencer wasn't ready to let anyone in yet.

. . .

Derek took a seat on his own on the plane back, letting the ladies fawn all over Spencer during the flight.

Penelope had been out on a cookie run before take-off and was busy encouraging Spencer to eat his way through the bag, while she promised to bake a batch of her own peanut butter crunch cookies as soon as she was home, just for him.

Emily had an array of books laid out in front of him, just in case he had run out of options to read. It was her subtle way of letting Spence now she was there without pestering the lad, Penelope style.

JJ was notably the quietest of the group. She sat in silence next to Spence, but Derek could see she had her hand rested on his arm the whole time. Their friendship had always been as close as his and Pen's, just a lot less obvious.

Resting back Derek let his eyes drift shut, his body suddenly realising the extent of the sleep deprivation he had suffered willingly for his friend. Somehow he suspected it wouldn't be the last disturbed night in the near future.

. . .

Derek opened the apartment door and entered first, turning on each light switch as he went. Knowing right now Spencer's need for light would be more necessary than normal. Glancing over his shoulder, as he dropped the holdall down by the back of the couch, Spencer was following slowly behind. Derek couldn't help but see how downbeat his friend was as his feet dragged.

"I know you have been mothered all the way home, but you really do look like you need a rest. Why don't you go to bed and I'll sort this out?" Derek gave the black bag a gentle kick as he nodded towards Spencer's room.

"No, I'll sort it," Spencer snapped, moving towards the bag, "I need to get back to normal. . . I need people to stop treating me like a victim."

Biting his tongue, Derek concentrated hard to stop a look of pity from crossing his face. Spencer was trying hard to still be brave, but he had to accept what he had been through. He needed to acknowledge what happened if he was to move forward.

"Ok, I'll throw this into your room; you can sort it out and get a rest while I go get us some food and sort dinner. How's that sound as a compromise?"

Spencer nodded weakly and took the lead in heading towards his bedroom. Derek hauled the bag through then left him to it. Figuring that he probably needed some space and time to process all that had happened.

However, that didn't mean Derek was going far or for long. Grabbing his car keys and picking up Spencer's apartment key at the same time, he left to go get some supplies. Planning to stop by his own place and restock his bag and a spare.

Whether Spencer Reid knew it or not, he had just got himself a new flatmate for a few days at least.


	3. Desperation

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Thank you for all the support with this story - it really is appreciated. Updating just because I know someone really wants me too (hee hee)!**

**. . .**

Spencer continued to push the food aimlessly around the plate. It may have been a vain attempt to fool Derek into thinking he had eaten more than he had but Derek was acutely aware that he had eaten little more than half a dozen mouthfuls.

"You don't like my Mom's hot pot? She always made it when one of us was ill, that and chicken soup. Gonna give making a batch of that a go tomorrow but I'm not promising it will be up to Mama Bear's standards. Called her for the recipe on the way to the store," Derek kept his tone light as he rambled, unsure what he was supposed to say that would make it all better.

"Tomorrow?" Spencer looked up surprised as the words registered with him.

"Yep, don't think you are getting rid of me that easily do you? Kid I spent the last couple of nights in the hospital with you, the night terrors, they really took it out of you. You need someone around Buddy and that someone will be me. Unless you would prefer me to let Penelope lose?"

Spencer looked shocked and shook his head vigorously. It wasn't that he didn't like Penelope but he had had his fill of her mothering on the flight home. "Honestly I'd prefer to be alone . . . Thank you."

Derek shook his head slowly as he finished his mouthful of stew, "No way Kid, that ain't happening. Not until I know you are on the mend. There could be serious side-effects to your injuries and I am not spending my night at home worrying about whether you are passed out on the kitchen floor. So count it as me being selfish if it helps make you feel better."

Dropping his head down, Spencer began pushing the food around once more. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Derek's offer, he really did, but right now he didn't know how to stand still let alone move forward. Even with the heavy dose of painkillers the doctors had prescribed him Spence was starting to feel a now familiar burn in his veins. His body wanted more than standard grade pain relief. Already, after such a short time alone with Hankel, his body was craving another shot of the elixir they had shared. Immediately his mind shot to the two small vials that he had managed to retrieve from his screwed up bundle of clothes. Yet he had no way of using the contents. Without thinking he began scratching at his arm, the very spot Hankel had used. He needed to get out, to find a way to get the supplies he needed. But how could he with Morgan as his shadow?

Standing up suddenly Spencer decided to make a dash for it, "I need some fresh air," he through over his shoulder as he made his way towards his apartment door. He had obviously shocked Derek as he had his hand on the door handle before Derek had caught up with him. However the wide hand placed firmly on his shoulder made it clear that he wasn't going to get to take another step.

"Hey, not without me."

Spence looked up to see Derek's puppy dog eyes looking down at him. Sighing deeply it crossed his mind to forget the walk and call it quits for the night but the honest truth was that the apartment was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Nodding he reached for his jacket and watched as Derek did the same.

. . .

Lying in his bed Spencer tossed and turned. His last dose of painkillers had done little to calm the now near constant feeling of need that was engulfing his body. Listening to the sound of Derek as he cleared the kitchen then settled to watch a game, Spencer willed the older man to sleep.

His skin itched as he contemplated taking an extra dose of drugs, though that would only spark suspicion when he finished them earlier then he should. Screwing himself up in a ball he tried to ignore the nausea that was rising. He knew he needed to ride this out, that to go through this once and that would be the end. Yet in this case he wasn't prepared to listen to the knowledge that he was usually so reliant on.

Closing his eyes he finally drifted into a fitful sleep the sound of his TV somewhere in the distance of his disturbed dreams.

Waking after what seemed like minutes, Spencer was immediately aware how quiet the house was. Turning he noticed a fresh glass of water on his bedside table. Sitting so that that he could take a sip from the glass, he considered what to do. Silently he slipped from his bed and begun to put on the clothes he had been wearing earlier over his PJs.

Spencer cracked the bedroom door open, waiting for a reaction, expecting Derek to pounce as soon as he heard a sound. Holding his breath for what seemed liked minutes, though Spencer knew it was closer to 30 seconds, he opened it wide enough for him to slip out into the lounge. Now he could clearly hear the sound of Derek snoring.

Walking with great care and deliberation, Spencer tiptoed towards the couch. Even in the darkness of the lounge it was clear to see that Derek was fast asleep. Continuing towards the door Spencer took great care as he took his coat down and made his way to the door. With one final glance over his shoulder Spencer worked on removing the lock without disturbing Derek.

Once he had the door open Spencer made his way to the other side, taking each step cautiously so as not to wake his sleeping friend. Shutting the door softly behind him, Spencer took a deep breath. He was out, alone!

Not quite believing it he proceeded down the hallway, shooting several glances back, half expecting Derek to come flying after him. As he reached the stairs he quickened the pace. His mind was set on what he had to do and getting back before he was missed.


	4. Secrets

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Thank you, especially to the guest reviewers that I have no way of replying to. I will try and send out a reply to the rest of you as well but thought my time was best spent posting another chapter for you. Thanks too to those who spotted a couple of typos/phrase changes - all sorted now (I hope).**

**And so we head on with the story.  
**

**. . .**

Sat on the edge of the bath Spencer looked down at the collection he had in front of him. It was nothing he hadn't seen before – the only difference was it had never been in his bathroom and he had never been sitting contemplating its use before. Until the last few days the closest he had come to such paraphernalia was seeing it scattered at a crime scene.

As his eyes scanned over the brand new syringe and the vials of Dilaudid his mind gave him 101 valid reasons why this was not a good idea. Yet at the same time his body was begging him to do it. Screwing his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose Spencer tried to calm his breathing once more. He was trying not to submit to his body's over reaction to the lack of the substance. Scratching at his right arm he watched his fingers edge towards the syringe.

"Hey Kid, I need to pee."

Spencer jump as he heard the bang on the bathroom door. Quickly he picked up the items and stashed out of sight, mumbling under his breath as he did so.

"Spence, you in there? You ok?"

"Mmm, yeah," he made his way to the door, unlocking it he opened it a crack. "I was just . . . "

"You sure you're ok?" Derek's brow furrowed as his looked at his younger colleague, "You're all sweaty again. And you're dressed, where you going at 5am?"

"5am," he glanced down at his watch, "I must have misread my clock, sorry I didn't wake you did I?" Bustling past Derek and heading back to his room Spence shot a look over his shoulder. "I think I'll head back to bed now."

"Of course you will," Derek muttered as he headed into the bathroom and did what he needed to do.

Leaving the bathroom Derek flopped back down on the couch. His broad shoulders flexed as he spread his arms across the back of the aged leather sofa. His head lolled backwards as he brought his feet up to rest on the sturdy wooden coffee table. Sighing deeply he accepted the fact that no matter how tired he was he wasn't going back to sleep. He considered taking an early morning run to clear his head.

Instead he rose and made his way to the kitchen to prep a pot of coffee. He had a feeling it would be needed today. As he stood waiting for the fresh brew, Derek rubbed his hands down his face. He needed to think of something to get them out of the house today, to help Spence move on. Keeping busy had always helped him to contain things; maybe it would work for Spence too.

With a warm mug in one hand and the rest of the pot in the other he made his way back to the couch. His eyes caught the local paper in the pile of post they had collected on their way in the night before. After he placed the pot down he grabbed the paper and sat down. Flicking through to the section that advertised what was on he scanned through to see if there was anything that seemed to fit the Spencer Reid bill of interests. Noting a couple of classical music recitals and a film that he couldn't pronounce the title of, Derek left the paper open to remind him to mention them later over breakfast. None of it was his 'thing' but he was willing to sacrifice a night on the town for the peace of mind that his friend was not alone.

Hugging the coffee and sipping slowly Derek tried hard to work out what was the best way to help and support Spencer. It would sure help if he actually knew what happened. He could put together as many of the puzzle pieces that he had but there definitely a few missing bits. He knew about some of the torture, both mental and physical. Medical reports made clear the level of dehydration and exhaustion. Yet he couldn't help but feel there was something else.

However the bottom line was that he didn't want this to finish the kid off. He deserved better. Derek may tease him, but he was in awe of how hard Spencer had worked to get his spot on the BAU team.

Rubbing his eyes, Derek grabbed some clothes from his beg – maybe that run wasn't such a bad idea after all.

. . .

Sat in his bedroom, Spencer listened carefully. He could hear Derek wandering around. He had hoped that he would go straight back to sleep once he had finished in the bathroom. Not that Spence had any plans to return to the bathroom. Right now he was content with hiding out in his room. He wanted to get back into the bathroom and remove the stash of drugs and syringes into the privacy of his room. While he waited he reached for the painkillers in te drawer next to his bed. Reading the instructions, not that he needed too, once more he sighed. Maybe he could persuade a doctor to give him an additional prescription to make up for the extra ones he had taken since he returned home. Briefly calculating the time since his last dose, Spence opened the bottle. Hopefully these would be enough to take the edge off the way he was feeling.

Swallowing both he took a swig of the water from his bedside table to wash them down. Grimacing at the taste he placed the water down and curled up in a ball on his bed. Staring at the blank caramel coloured wall opposite he cuddled himself as he tried to sleep. Though that was easier said than done, he was aware of Derek moving around once more. Sighing, he reached for the paper and pad he kept beside his bed and started scrawling a letter to his mother. It was one he would never send but it was more productive than laying there listening to his mind as it tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

He startled slightly as he heard the apartment door shut, he had no idea where Derek was heading but it meant he was alone.

And, although that was what he had wished for, it was not a good feeling.


	5. Penelope

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Again I am sorry for not replying to reviews but I have a huge number of work deadlines over the next coupl of weeks and kind of assumed that you would prefer another chapter first and replies later. Please accept this huge that you for the feedback and the support. I will try to get back and fix the bits that were pointed out over the next few days. **

**Sorry could resist a little Morgan/Garcia in this chapter.**

**. . . **

As he quietly pushed open the door Derek was surprised to be greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Glancing down at his watch he knew it could not be the remnants of the pot he had made earlier. He had been gone too long for that to have any life left in it. So that only meant one thing – Spencer was up and about.

Striding through the lounge and heading for the kitchen Derek was pleasantly surprised to find Spencer pottering around wiping surfaces and such like.

"You're looking better this morning," Derek said with a smile.

Spencer turned toward him and nodded, a slightly coy look on his face. "Thanks."

Shrugging Derek dismissed the comment, "You don't need to thank me for anything."

"Coffee?" Spencer turned away as he spoke.

"Do you mind if I go grab a shower first?"

It was Spencer's turn to shrug as Derek made his way to bathroom, just as he went out of sight he popped his head back round the door frame, "By the way I have already had a call from a very insistent nurse in the making who wanted to let you know that she was already part way through her second batch of cookies and would be round later with them for you and to see how you were doing. I tried to rein her in but no can do."

"That's fine, I know how much Penelope worries."

"I was hoping you would say that." With which Derek disappeared.

. . .

Shuffling up close to Spencer, Penelope gave a wide grin, "Sure I can't tempt you with another cookie? These ones are triple choc, extra gooey in the middle!"

"Honestly Penelope I really can't eat another thing, in fact if the two of you don't mind I would like to have a lie down."

Derek looked over at him, it was obvious he was uncomfortable with how close Penelope was getting but there was something else, something Derek still couldn't quite figure out. Once more Spencer was looking pale and, though the genius was a regular fidget, there was something more intense in the way he was moving. He was on edge once more, his eyes darting round the room. There was something mildly 'panic attack' like about his whole demeanour.

"Sure thing Kid, we'll tidy up here. You go take it easy."

Penelope watched him go, then her sad eyes turned back to Derek. "He's going to be ok, isn't he?"

Derek nodded, though he didn't know if what he was saying was the truth or not. Something was bothering him, but he didn't know what.

"What's up Sweetness?"

Shrugging Derek reached forward for another cookie, biting into it he contemplated his answer. Leaning forward, his voice dropped to a soft whisper, as he hoped Spencer was completely out of ear shot.

Penelope mirrored his action as Derek started to speak.

"I'll be honest, I'm worried. I don't think he has accepted what he has been through and I'm not so sure he is handling the physical pain too well either."

Penelope raised an eyebrow but remained silent and allowed Derek to continue talking.

"This morning, when I got back from my run I had high hopes that he was starting to show some glimmer of himself but it soon became obvious he was completely shut down and just putting a brave face on it all. Mentally I can't get a handle on where his mind's at. Don't get me wrong I'm not expecting an overnight recovery – but if he doesn't talk to someone he could seriously crash and burn."

Penelope straightened up, "Would you talk in his situation?"

"I . . . um . . . I have other avenues to release my tensions through, but yeah I'd like to think I could find someone to talk it through with."

"Uh – huh," Penelope looked sceptically at him, "And who is to say that our young genius hasn't got 'avenues to release his tensions' too? Just because he doesn't pound it out with a punch bag or run it off over several miles doesn't mean his methods are any less valid Buster. Lay off the kid. Let him know you are there and keep a close eye on him, but don't smother him."

Derek laughed "And that is coming from the woman who was practically sat on his lap force feeding him cookies."

Penelope blushed, "That was different. All I am saying is give hime some room, let him have chance to come to you when he is ready."

Derek mulled over her comments, "You saying I should head home and leave him to it?"

"Not necessarily, but have you asked Spencer if he wants you here or imposed yourself on him?"

"I . . . um . . . In the hospital he was getting real bad night terrors and I didn't want him to be alone."

"That's great that you know that and are willing to help, but . . ." her voice trailed off as she gave him one of her looks.

"Ok I surrender, I'll ask him if he wants me to stay and if he says no then I will pack up and leave."

"Good boy," Penelope added as she reached over and patted his leg.

. . .

Spencer sat once more on his bed contemplating what he should do. Reaching for the pain killers he vowed to stay strong. Swallowing them down and finishing them off with the glass of water which he had brought through with him. Staring at his hands he watched for some sign that the tablets were doing their job and giving his body the reprieve it needed.

He watched, detached, as his fingers seemed to take on a life of his own. Squirming and drumming away as if he had no control over them. Flopping back on his bed he waited for the moment of release from his pain and the small hope that he could rest before his body craved more.


	6. Seperating

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Again I am very aware that I have not replied to reviews but time is running out on me, it is not that I don't appreciate you but I thought it would be better to update than reply. Sorry if I have offended anyone and thank you for the support.**

**. . .**

Spencer wandered through the house sleepily, his feet shuffling silently on the soft carpet. He rubbed his screwed up eyes with the heels of his hands, in the vain hope that they may finally focus. Stopping, as he bumped his hip on the counter top entering the kitchen area, he cursed quietly as he breathed in deep, a smell he was unsure of greeting him.

"Hey, that has to be the best sleep you have had for a while," came a familiar voice from somewhere behind him.

Spencer looked down at the heavy watch on his wrist and realised that he had slept for nearly seven hours straight, since he had left Penelope and Derek's overbaring mothering. Yet, he still didn't feel refreshed. In fact, he had a pounding headache, but the shakes were less noticeable now that the most recent dose of painkillers was kicking in. He mentally calculated how much longer the prescription would last. Then what . . .? He shuddered at the thought.

"You ok? Cold?" Derek asked as he moved passed Spencer, placing a glass in the sink as he went.

"Yes, I'm fine, just struggling to focus," Spencer moved forward to get himself some water. As he did so he glanced down to see what Derek had pulled from the oven. Now the smell made sense. The bubbling cheese on the top of the lasagne that now rested on the worktop was a dark golden colour. The smell had been the garlic bread that was also exiting the oven as Derek busied himself making the final preparations to dinner.

"Was considering waking you, but thought I would just eat alone and save some for you. But now you are here . . ."

"You know what," Spence placed the half empty glass back down, holding on to the counter top as he did so, "I think I am going back to bed. Sorry, but I guess you will be eating alone." Turning away Spencer headed gingerly back towards his room.

Derek watched, concerned etched across his face. "Hey, Kid, Garcia thinks I have out stayed my welcome. I told her she was wrong, but . . ."

Spencer turned, seeing how worried Derek was. "My own space would be good . . . Thank you."

Rooted to the spot, Derek bit his tongue wanting to argue that Spencer was in no fit state to look after himself. He wanted to stay here, to show he was ready to help but it was clear that Spencer didn't want him around. Turning round as he heard the bedroom door click Derek began to portion up the lasagne. It could be put in the fridge with the batch of chicken broth he had made earlier. At least the Kid could eat properly once he was gone.

. . .

Derek slumped on to the huge leather couch in his lounge, bathed in the blue glow of the TV that he had turned on but done nothing else with. He felt dreadful, and it wasn't caused by a lack of sleep and the aches from a rough night on a cramped couch. This was from the nagging feeling he had that there was something about Spence that he was missing.

It was reasonable to expect him to be edgy, to have nightmares and generally not be himself. No-one expected him to bounce back overnight. But there was something he just couldn't put his finger on. Something about the way he was behaving that Derek didn't like. Maybe it was the secrecy surrounding what happened. In all the time they had spent together in the hospital and over the weekend Spence hadn't said a word. Derek didn't like that, which was ironic seeing how secretive he could be.

Derek sighed as he lay down on the couch; he flicked his Sky box on and let the noise from the random channel filter through his thoughts as he tried hard to forget about Spencer and his concerns for him. But it wasn't that easy.

. . .

Spencer thrashed wildly as he tried to fight off whoever was suffocating him. His arms ripped at his own throat as he gasped desperately for air. Coughing, he finally managed to roll onto his front, freeing himself from the tangle of bed clothes that had formed the attack that had mirrored his nightmare. Cold sweat trickled down his back, rivulets raced against each other, sending shivers down his spine. He trembled uncontrollably as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Each ragged breath sent another shudder ricocheting through his body.

Collapsing in a heap, face down on the bed, Spencer struggled to cope with the pain – both physical and emotional. It was all so overwhelming. He wanted it to end; he needed it to end . . . right now. It had been easier when he had been with Hankel; at least there he had relief from it all.

Turning towards the bedside table Spencer slowly opened the drawer, looking at the contents longingly. Just one shot was all that was needed. Then this would be over…for the time being, anyway.

Reaching tentively into the drawer, he pulled out a vial of clear liquid. His mind allowed his body to react immediately to mere sight of the chemical. Without realising it he rocked silently in the middle of the bed as he contemplated what he should do. Logic was telling him not to - that he had come this fair on prescription meds - and it wouldn't take much to persuade a doctor he needed a repeat after all he had been through. But he would be out of the field longer if he was needing more medication, it would be official, everyone would know he wasn't coping, that he had failed as everyone had predicted he would. Spencer Reid, FBI agent, yeah right – he could vividly remember the snide comments off the others that he trained with. Even gaining a position in the prestigious BAU hadn't stopped them mocking him.

Pulling the sterile syringe from the drawer, he continued to weigh up the possibilities, literally. He could come off this slowly without anyone knowing what he was doing, self medicating. It wasn't as if it was coke or heroin. Dilaudid was a prescription medication, widely used in hospitals. It was respectable.

Deep in his mind, Spencer knew he was kidding himself, that this needed to stop. However, that didn't stop him from filling the syringe.


	7. Returning

**Revelations**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Yet again my tardiness on replying to reviews is inexcusable, please accept my apology but I really felt it would be more appreciated if I got this chapter out. Also I have my Series 9 one-shots that need attention.**

**So I know this will not be popular but this chapter brings us to the end of the story. Before you all line up to throw stones at me I know I could carry on through Spencer's journey, but as I stated at the start this was originally a one shot. I decided to extend it to bridge the two episodes and settle my own gaps in what happened. Sorry if I have disappointed, thank you for your support. **

. . .

Derek stretched stiffly as he yawned. He really should have made the effort to get up and go to bed last night instead of drifting off on the couch. Yet he had struggled to get the images of Spencer out of his mind, finally exhaustion had overcome him and now he faced being late for work. Dashing upstairs he made his way straight to the bathroom. A quick shower would have to do but honestly he could do with a lot longer, anything to help batter the knots out of his shoulders.

Exiting the shower, drops of water still tracing their way over his muscles, Derek was quick to grab some clothes and made himself look vaguely presentable. Rushing towards the door, he didn't have enough time to get a coffee first. Pulling a face as he realised that meant his first cup of the day would be the _FBI special_. Closing his eyes briefly as he got into his car he sent a silent prayer for Penelope to pick him up a cup from their favourite coffee shop. If ever there was a need for something else strong and black in Derek's life it was right now!

. . .

Derek sauntered casually into the bullpen, trying not to make a deal of the fact that he was near enough half an hour late. As he headed towards his desk he was quick to clock the lack of team in the vicinity. Glancing around he was surprised to see no-one around. He guessed, by the fact that the blinds were down on Hotch's office windows and the door was shut that some sort of pow-wow was going on. He would put money on Gideon being in there too, as his office door was wide open; a sure sign no-one was in.

Spinning on his heels he headed towards Penelope's lair. Maybe she would know what he missed.

As he tapped on the door he heard the muffled voices from the other side.

"Entered mere Mortal, and be blessed with a viewing."

Derek swung the door open and came face to face with the female members of the team. Each had a steaming mug of coffee in their hands and was obviously in cahoots over something.

"So what'd I miss?"

"Oh, Cupcake, admittedly a deep, rich double chocolate cupcake, our resident Genius only turned up for work this morning as if nothing had happened and had a real confused look on his cute little face when Hotch asked him to join him in his office for a chat."

"What?" Derek's face showing the disbelief in what he had been told.

"Yep, he was sat at his desk when I got here, files open and pen in hand," Emily added.

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading asking Penelope if she could find what time he had entered the building. Derek had a sneaky feeling that it may have been long before the rest of them had considered arriving.

"Oh . . . Oh . . . I know that look," Penelope said wagging her finger at her best friend, "No I will not do it."

Derek gave a pleading look, knowing that Penelope was tuned into his wave of thought.

"No, you, Hot Stuff, have to back off and accept that Dr Reid will find his own way of dealing with all of this. He is an intelligent young man, uber intelligent really. He's stronger than a lot of us give him credit for, guys like Spence don't get an easy ride in life. Be there but don't smoother him."

JJ and Emily looked at each other, registering the pained look on Derek's face and the irony of Penelope's words.

"But . . ."

"There are no buts on this. You are an amazing friend and Spence knows that. Give him a chance." Penelope folded her arms tightly across her chest to show that the mattered had come to an end.

Dejected Derek turned and left. Maybe Pen was right and he was over reacting to all of this. Shaking his head Derek headed straight to the kitchen, grabbing a FBI standard logo mug out of the cupboard and pouring himself a coffee. He grimaced as the thick liquid flowed, the bitterness hitting the back of his throat before he even took a sip. If he didn't know better he would swear this stuff had been brewing a week.

As he made his way back to his desk he noticed that Spencer was back at his desk, quickly he jogged back to the kitchen and grabbed another mug of coffee this time topped up with plenty of creamer and an overdose of sugar.

As he reached his friend's desk he placed the second mug down, "Hope you don't mind, but I thought you might like one."

Spencer looked up, dark circles engulfed his eyes. "Urm . . . thanks," he muttered.

Derek hovered but heeded Pen's words and decided against giving Spencer anymore advice, instead he returned to his own seat and the pile of files he faced.

"Derek," Spence called softly.

Derek looked up. "Yeah."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Derek watched in silence as Spencer's head dropped as he focused once more on the file in front of him, nothing more to say.

. . .

Derek tried to avoid working late at all costs; it wasn't that he was a slacker it was just that he tended to have better things to do. However tonight he was making an exception, mainly because he wanted an opportunity to have a word with Hotch or Gideon, or both, without Spencer seeing him. The downside to that meant staying here later then Spencer, which was no mean feat. He was just about convinced that the genius was in for the night when Emily packed up her bag and went to speak to Spencer.

"Right you, I think that is enough for one day, beside I am in need of some chess tuition if you are up for it?"

Spencer looked up with a quizzical look on his face.

"How else am I going to hold my own against Gideon?"

"I . . . um . . . would rather be alone if you don't mind."

"Sure. I understand that, but one game won't hurt, will it? I can give you a lift home."

He sighed deeply but still pushed away from his desk, gathering a few things into his satchel as he did so.

Sitting and watching them go, Derek took the opportunity to glace up at the offices on the walkway. Jumping up, he made his way up the few steps two at a time. Wrapping his knuckles on the half open door to Hotch's office he was surprised to Gideon in there with him, so much for his theories on telling when they were in their own space.

"Come in, Morgan," Hotch called as he glanced up from the open file he had been sharing with Gideon.

Derek stepped in, not bothering to take a seat.

"Hotch, I'm more that a little concerned that Reid's back at work."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. He should be used to his younger colleague's bluntness by now, but this time he had surprised him.

"It was his choice. He would prefer to be here than at home. Not that it is any of your business, but he won't be out in the field until will are satisfied he is ready."

"But it _is _my business. I have spent the weekend with him. He's not ready to be on his own - let alone out in the field. Hotch, you should have seen him." Derek couldn't help but notice how Gideon had leant back in his seat, his fingers resting against each other as he watched the pair. Sometimes he hated the guy.

"Agent Morgan, I appreciate your concern for your colleague and I will bear in mind your views when I make my decision," Hotch said, his formality making it clear that the conversation was over.

Before Morgan could launch another attack, Gideon rose from his seat to move towards the younger man.

"You say yourself that Spencer is not ready to be on his own, yet you are wanting us to send him home. Has it not occurred to you that he has no-one? His mother is miles away in a mental institution and you want us to condemn him to solitary confinement in his apartment. Don't you think we have let him down enough recently without adding insult to injury?"

Gideon's words hit hard and Derek's gaze dropped to the floor in embracement. He waited while Gideon left, before looking back up. His eyes met Hotch's.

"What he is trying to say is, at least with Reid here we can all keep an eye on him. We're all the family he has right now."

Nodding his agreement Derek left, contemplating the actions of his seniors.

. . .

Spencer sighed deeply as he sat on his bed, relief flooding him that Emily had finally taken the hint and left. In front of him lay all he needed to complete his evening. No matter how much his mind was screaming this was wrong his body was craving more.

After all, he reasoned, it was easy enough to convince everyone all was well today he was sure with a good night's sleep he could pull it off for some time yet.

Picking up the syringe Spencer got ready to escape from his nightmares once more.

. . .

"I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom."  
**Edgar Allan Poe**


End file.
